There Comes a Time
by Infernal Rose
Summary: Harry was captured by Voldemort on his 17th birthday, held prisoner for 1 1/2 years, and tortured every minute of it. When he escapes he locks down his emotions and seeks to learn everything he can to protect himself. In his search for training, he finds the Hidden Villages. Will his teacher be able to teach him the shinobi ways, and heal Harry's heart along the way? Slash.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N - This is a challenge from Serpent in the Shadows. There will be no Horcruxes in this story, which means Dumbledore is still alive, and Harry has no reason to distrust Snape other than his sparkling personality.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Naruto.**_

_**Warning - To those who are oblivious, this story will have slash. That means male/male relationships to those who don't get it from the pairing listed below. Don't read if you don't like, and if you don't like, don't flame, because it's your own fault for reading anyway.**_

**CHALLENGE #4**

-Harry Potter/Naruto Crossover  
- Pairing: Harry/Naruto

Summary:  
At the age of 17, Harry was kidnapped by Death Eaters. Tortured beyond anyone's imagination - Harry loses an eye, his face and body scarred. After a year and a half, a now 18 yr old Harry escapes and finds his way to Hogwarts. Because of everything he's been through, Harry turns cold and emotionless and vows never to be defenseless or scared ever again. Once healed, he asks the Headmaster to step up his training so he will be able to defeat the Dark Lord - he is denied. Everyone thinks he's too emotionally scarred and could break at any moment, so they coddle him, and treat him as if made of glass. Fed up, Harry leaves Hogwarts, knowing that he's going to have to find another way to get the training he needs. Before he leaves the wizarding world, Harry ventures to his vaults and while in the Black vault he finds a book that has hand written accounts of lands that are hidden from the world. In it, he comes across a passage that talks of lands that breed and raise hired assassins - Ninjas. Taking a chance, Harry empties the vaults of all its money and takes the book with him so he can find the 'Hidden Villages'.

Requirements:  
- Harry gets the Hokage to agree to let him hire one of their own in order to train him in weapons.  
- Naruto must be the one that teaches him (Naruto must be at least 17)  
- Remember, Harry has turned off his emotions in order to deal with everything that's been thrown at him - so make him act that way.

**Prologue**

Harry lay at the bottom of the small, dark coat closet, waiting with an ever increasing sense of doom. The Dursleys had finally snapped this summer, moving in the middle of the night from Number 4 Privet Drive to a new home that had taken days to reach in the Dursleys' cramped car. No amount of explaining could get his uncle to understand the need to remain, or at least let other wizards know where they were going. Harry hadn't had an opportunity to let anyone know either, as Hedwig had been caged the entire time. His beautiful owl had died a few days after arriving at the new house, and the very thought of it made him sad.

It was about the same size as Number 4 had been, with three rooms, a nice kitchen and two bathrooms. Unfortunately, as it didn't have a cupboard under the stairs, and Dudley's veritable mountain of junk could only fit in the third room, Harry had been relegated to the cramped coat closet. It was comparable in size to a bathroom stall. In these circumstances, Harry's relatively short stature was a mixed blessing. He hadn't managed to reach past 5'5 ft due to malnutrition at the hands of his relatives. While he couldn't stretch to his full body length while lying down, he was, at least, able to lie down comfortably if he curled up.

Despite how horrible his circumstances were, they were not the cause of his growing sense of dread. The current date held all accountability for the sinking sensation in his gut. It was nearing 12:00 a.m., which marked the start of the 31st of July. The day of his seventeenth birthday, after which he would be considered an adult in the wizarding world. The Trace would be removed from him, and he would officially be able to use magic outside of school. Normally, he would have been ecstatic about this development, but his wand was locked in a safe in the attic, along with all his other wizarding supplies. And he was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, supposed Savior of the Wizarding World. Chosen One they called him. In other words, he was the boy-with-a-target-on-his-head, and the blood wards that kept him safe for only as long as he lived with Aunt Petunia would disappear with his coming of age. He would be in an unknown place surrounded by strangers, with no protection, not even his own wand. What made things infinitely worse was that he knew for a fact that Voldemort was aware of his location, thanks to that annoying little mind link they shared. He was also fairly certain that the Order had no clue where he was, so there would be no help from them. The dreams he had of Voldemort meant that he knew with utmost certainty that the attack would come tonight.

As if drawn by his thoughts, several loud 'CRACKS' resonated throughout the house, closely followed by loud shouts, screams, and curses from his relatives. In mere seconds, three almost simultaneous _Avada Kedavras_ rang through the air, and Harry could hear the muffled thumps of bodies hitting the floor. Loud bangs and heavy footsteps echoed throughout the house as they began to search for him. As his panic started to rise, his magic began to fluctuate wildly in concert, ready to lash out at the first sign of danger. He knew it wouldn't do much good though. Even if his magic sought to protect him, it wouldn't be able to last very long against the Death Eaters. Voldemort would have made sure there was enough wizards present to eventually over power him, even if he hadn't come himself. And since it was only the first hour of his magical maturity, his magic wouldn't have received the entirety of the boost every wizard got when their magic finished maturing. The increase came over time, which hadn't had sufficient time to pass. Meaning Harry and his magic didn't stand a chance.

These were Harry's last thoughts before the lock clicked and the door to his closet was flung open. Looking up, he found himself staring up into the blood colored eyes of his greatest foe, causing his fear to rise ever higher and adrenaline to race through his veins. Harry hadn't even bothered to get up from his position curled at the bottom of the closet. That changed when his enemy's sickly pale, skeletal hand moved to point a wand made of yew in his direction. Harry's magic burst forth in a sudden rush, causing Voldemort to crash into the wall opposite the closet. Harry went from lying down to dashing down the hall and towards the door faster than one would have expected from his small frame. He was, of course, pursued closely by Death Eaters, but his magic flared out, ready to push them away if they got too close for comfort. He had almost made it out the door by the time one of the Death Eaters remembered his wand and cast a stunning spell that hit him squarely on the back. He hit his head quite hard as fell to the floor in a heap. The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was the maliciously grinning face of Lord Voldemort looming over him.

**Chapter 1**

**-approximately 1 ½ years later-**

Harry stared at his tormentors vacantly as they argued, his remaining left eye inscrutable. A long scar ran from the outer corner of his empty right eye socket, hugging his elegant cheekbone and tapering to an end just before it reached his jaw. It wasn't particularly ugly, and rather resembled a tear streak. He had been lucky there was no damage to his eyelid when it happened. Terrible scars could be seen all over his arms, legs and torso, most of them long, either carved by a knife, a whip, or a curse, and some of them not completely healed. Metal cuffs around his ankles and wrists chained him to the wall. His glasses were long gone, and he was shirtless, his only remaining clothing the same pair of pants he'd arrived in, now torn and covered in blood and dirt. An evil looking collar made of a strange black metal with ancient looking symbols adorned his throat, having been placed there immediately upon his arrival at the place that was to be his prison. It was this dark device that kept his magic trapped underneath his skin, racing about trying to force its way out of its confines, and disconnected from his mind. It was quite painful to have his own magic beating him from the inside out as it tried to escape, but then again, it was meant to be. Hardly anything was done to in that did not have the purpose of causing pain.

Harry closed his eye for a moment when he saw the gang of Death Eaters begin to make their way towards him, mentally preparing himself for the pain that would undoubtedly come. Using magic to force him to the middle of the cell after releasing his chains, they immediately chained him again, this time to the ceiling. They had decided on whips today, surrounding him and starting off hard to make immediate long cuts, then going a bit softer, only barely enough to no longer make cuts. It might sound strange for torture to start harsh and grow gentler, if only slightly, but that wasn't really the case. The harsher starting strokes of the whip opened cuts on the back from the very beginning. The only reasoning behind the softer strokes was to keep from killing him, and the fact that despite being (slightly) softer, the following lashes were even more painful due to the fact that they landed on the premade cuts. Repeatedly.

All this torment Harry endured with no reaction. Not a word, not a sound, not any sudden clenching of muscles, or trembling, much to his tormenters' disappointment as they took turns with the whips. He had learned early on that, as sadistic as they were, it only served to spur them on. It was instinctive to him now, to remain completely silent and still, so as not to give them the upper hand. More than they already did anyway. However, not even he, with all his practice, could help a small flinch when they poured a tub of salt water directly over his fresh wounds, about an hour after they'd first started as far as he could tell. The intense, burning pain was what finally tipped him over the edge of unconsciousness. After one last bloody flick of the whip, his tormenters put him back in his original chains connected to the back wall of the cell before they left, their fun done now that he wasn't awake to feel the pain.

. . .

A few hours later as Harry still slept, unconscious from the Death Eaters' last bit of fun, his magic began to act strangely. It began speeding up from its usual pace as it circulated throughout his body, trying harder than ever to break free, while simultaneously ramming at the barrier that severed the link it had to Harry's mind. Faster and faster it went, lashing out strongly at the cursed collar keeping it a prisoner, and causing Harry's body to heat up at the speed with which it raced through his body. It had grown stronger while trapped than it would have normally, building up inside Harry's body and increasing his holding capacity for magic while it was unable to find release. Building up to this moment, the time it was finally strong enough to free itself. Which it did with a final surge of power at the cursed device around Harry's neck, causing it to break to pieces and fall from Harry's throat, and allowing it to finally connect to Harry's mind as it was meant to.

. . .

Harry woke with a jolt as his magic surged through his mind through the link, wanting only one thing: to keep Harry safe. This, in turn, meant getting away from Voldemort and his followers. Harry was quite a bit delirious from blood loss and the fever his magic had caused when it freed itself, but he found he agreed with those sentiments completely. So he stood up, a little wobbly, and made his way to the old wooden door of his cell, which his magic promptly unlocked for him. Then he simply walked out and went on his way. Any door in his way was unlocked by his magic and easily opened. If there were any locks spelled to prevent such actions, they were quickly overwhelmed by a burst of Harry's wild magic. The few Death Eaters Harry came across were disarmed and dispatched by his overflowing magic in a rapid fashion, until, finally, Harry was led out of the dungeon by his magic.

Things got a bit harder once he was free of the dungeons. Harry found himself in a very expensive looking mansion. From the numerous pale haired portraits scurrying about, he concluded, rather distantly, that he was in Malfoy Manor. He could tell from the windows he passed that it was either early morning or evening. Now that he was out in the open, there were far more enemies to deal with, though none of them were able get past his raging magic, even in groups. Having learned its lesson from the last time it was free, the magic tended to disarm or break his opponents' wands before going after the wizards themselves in various ways. Sometimes the enemy would be randomly stunned, and sometimes they would freeze up, stiff as a board, and fall to the ground, paralyzed. The thing that happened most often though, was Harry's magic lashing out and creating large, incapacitating wounds.

And so it continued, Harry struggling through hordes of enemies, while trying to find his way out, until he ran into a particular Death Eater that his magic did not see as a threat. Everyone else in that group was quickly dealt with, until the only one left was the one that his magic, strangely as it seemed, 'trusted'. Turning to face said Death Eater, he had enough time to see a pair vaguely familiar black eyes looking at him from behind one of Death Eater's customary white masks before his legs gave out and he fell to the floor. At this point, the blood loss and fever caught up with him once again, and despite, or perhaps because of the huge amount of magic coursing through him, he passed out once more.

. . .

Severus Snape had been having a relatively normal day. He'd frightened numerous students in his classes, made a few potions, and had even had some time to do some experimenting. The day had been slightly marred by the Order meeting he'd had to attend, where he'd been pestered relentlessly about finding where the Potter boy was being kept by the Dark Lord, especially by Granger and the Weasleys. He'd told them repeatedly that he was too close to Albus Dumbledore for the Dark Lord to trust him with Potter's whereabouts, but they persisted as if they didn't hear him, and acted as if it was his fault that they didn't have they didn't have their precious Golden Boy back yet, after almost 1 ½ years of searching.

He'd just made it back to his lab to check on the delicate potion he was brewing when his Dark Mark had burned with the pain that was the Dark Lord's barbaric way of summoning his Death Eaters. He immediately banished the potion, as it would explode if still left alone in ten minutes, then proceeded to summon a house elf to leave with a message to Dumbledore, telling him of the Dark Lord's summons. He positioned his routine sneer on his face to cover a grimace of pain as he walked through the halls, out the doors, then out the gates of the grounds, where he apparated to where the Dark Lord was summoning him to.

He was somewhat surprised to find himself in the room that served as the apparition point of Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord's headquarters had been at Riddle Manor for quite some time now, as Dumbledore would never suspect Voldemort of voluntarily being anywhere near something that reminded him of his muggle father. Even more surprising were all the masked Death Eaters he saw running about like headless chickens. Curious, he grabbed the arm of a passing Death Eater.

"What's going on?" he asked acidly. Clearly a newbie, the young wizard flinched at his harsh tone of voice, and stuttered when he spoke.

"T-the P-p-potter boy has e-escaped the d-dungeons. We're to c-c-catch him before he l-leaves the M-m-m-manor." The young Death Eater jerked his arm free upon finishing, and ran off in the direction all the others were heading.

Severus was too stunned to move for a few moments as his mind processed the information he had just been given. Then he rushed off, following the trail of Death Eaters. As he ran through the halls, he began to see Death Eaters immobilized on the ground, having clearly come out the worst in a fight. Some of them he recognized, such as the Lestrange brothers and Nott. The numbers of defeated Death Eaters grew as he progressed, until he came across a group that was still standing; for the moment anyway. They were attacking a filthy and scarred boy wearing only a tattered pair of sweatpants. Despite their superior numbers, they didn't stand a chance against the nearly visible magic writhing about in the air around the boy, and were quickly taken care of.

The group of Death Eaters that Severus had joined along the way quickly launched their own attack, hoping to gain the Dark Lord's favor by capturing the runt. Severus stepped forward as well so as not to seem suspicious. The magic surrounding the boy rendered the attacking Death Eaters unconscious, and Severus fully expected to join them on the ground. To his surprise, when the last Death Eater other than him was felled, the boy made no move against him. He watched with barely concealed curiosity and dread as the boy turned to him, and had only a few seconds to take in the scarred face and single remaining green eye belonging to Harry Potter before the boy fainted.

Acting quickly and not allowing himself time to think, Severus disillusioned the overly skinny boy, then picked him up before running as quickly as he could with his burden towards the apparation point. He reached it with surprising ease, probably because Potter had already taken out most of the Death Eaters. Disappparating in the same elaborate room he'd appeared in, he left Malfoy Manor with the previously missing teenager in his arms. Severus was astonished by the sheer number of scars that he noticed as he headed to the infirmary after apparating back to the gates of Hogwarts. Luckily, he didn't have to worry about running into students as it was now after curfew. The boy was also far too light, but that was to be expected after more than a year as the Dark Lord's personal guest.

He was jerked from his musings when he arrived at the infirmary, and he felt a strangely powerful sense of relief as he burst through the doors. Severus saw Poppy came out of her office, a scolding prepared to leave her lips, only to be swallowed when she saw him and the condition of the underweight boy he was placing on one the white hospital beds. She took only a moment to send an elf off to inform Albus before rushing to cast diagnostic spells on the boy, who had started convulsing wildly on the bed. Somehow the boy's magic deflected her all of her spells, not allowing her to get any readings, or even heal the boy on the bed, who she had distantly noted was Harry Potter. So it was with a great amount of relief that Poppy greeted the Headmaster with when he arrived.

"Albus," she said frantically, "I can't help him! It's as if my spells are being deflected every time I try to do something! He's losing blood and he has a high fever!" Dumbledore's usually cheerful face was grave and pale as he cast several spells on the severely injured boy, who he had recognized immediately as his surrogate grandson. When he was done he stepped away from the convulsing boy with a weary sigh.

"I'm afraid, Poppy, that there is nothing we can do," he said in a more serious voice than either Severus or Poppy had ever heard him use. "It would seem that Voldemort used a dark artifact to keep young Harry's magic bound while he was captured. Since he was captured on his birthday, and I imagine this artifact would have been on him the entire time, the whole time his magic was growing with his inheritance, it was unable to find release. Having such a large amount of magic growing while bound in his body would have killed anyone else, but Harry has an unusual connection to his magic that has never been seen before in any witch or wizard. This connection allowed his magic to expand his capacity for it instead killing him.

I believe that once the magic within him had grown enough, it was able to break free of the dark object that kept it confined. Now that it is free, it sees any foreign magic as a threat, which is why your magic didn't work Poppy. The reason his body is convulsing is like this," he said, gesturing towards Harry," is that he isn't used to being connected to his magic after how long it was kept from him, let alone the large amount it has grown to." As he finished his explanation, his face was incredibly sad, an expression that was mirrored by Poppy. Severus' face showed as little emotion as usual, though his posture seemed a bit defeated. They were helpless to do anything for thrashing teenager, and none of them much liked the feeling, even Professor Snape, who professed to hate him. With nothing to do but watch in hopes that his condition might change, that is what they did. Each of them could see the abnormally large amount of terrible scars covering his body. They noticed each and every one of them, from his missing eye and the subsequent scar on his cheek, to the newest ones that were still oozing blood onto the contrastingly white sheets. Until they saw small glimmers of a mixture of silver, gold, and pearl tracing the wounds.

They stood around the bed, watching with awe as Harry's magic began to take on the beautiful color, and were able to see that it was slowly healing the wounds before it grew to envelope his body completely. It thickened to the point where they couldn't see any part of him through it. When Poppy reached forward to touch it, her finger sank only a few centimeters in before they could go no further.

"It's warm," she murmured softly, clearly astonished, with a small smile on her face at the wonderful feeling of the magic before she pulled away. The relief in the room was palpable. "I suppose all we can do is wait for him now." Albus nodded in agreement, and so did Severus, strangely enough. She conjured three comfortable chairs and sat in one while the others did the same, settling down to wait for the special boy to awaken.

_**A/N – This story was not Beta'd, so I apologized for any mistakes. Please review, and feel free to critique my writing.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: So this is the new chapter. I'm still new at this so sorry if it's unsatisfactory. I'd also appreciate any tips or advice on how to improve my writing, so please review. I don't have a Beta, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. I had a really hard time with this chapter for some reason, but I hope you enjoy it. _**

**_Warning: This story will contain shounen ai/yaoi/slash. For those unfamiliar with these terms, that means guys loving guys in a romantic way. If you don't approve, don't read._**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, nor do I own Naruto. Quite frankly, I can't draw worth crap, so drawing manga would be far beyond my capabilities._**

Harry lay on a white hospital bed, his battered body emanating a warm golden glow. Small streams of a slightly brighter silvery gold raced along his numerous scars. As they did, the scars began to heal, so slowly that it would be unnoticeable to anyone watching. Any bones that had healed badly from a break were fixed in such a gradual way that it caused him no pain. Any lingering internal damage was fixed. The most recent wounds from his last day in the Malfoy Manor dungeons closed and healed, and the only thing left of his scars were thin silvery lines of barely raised skin that left a brand of graceful but cruel beauty on his body. The scar that ran along his face was the worst and therefore most prominent scar remaining, and you followed the line it made up his cheek, you could see a large amount of magic congregated around the area were his eye used to be.

Throughout this whole process, wisps of light blue energy, invisible to any eye not specifically trained to see it, were streaming through the walls, the ceiling, and even the ground, joining with paler strands of a mixture of the same energy and small amounts of equally transparent transparent magic that were reaching out from Harry, then being drawn into his body by those very same strands.

. . .

The glow coming from Harry`s body slowly faded, being absorbed back into his magical core, where it became dormant once more, a state in which it would wait for its master`s specific command to act, as it would have remained in all his life had Harry not had such a unique connection to his magic, and had his magic not grown to such a great quantity. When the glow had been completely reabsorbed into his body, all of the invisible energy that had been drawn to him hovered around him for a moment, before sinking into his skin. Time seemed to hold still as Harry continued to sleep. Then, as the world around him held its breath, both of his eyelids opened, revealing his original green left eye, and a new eye with an endlessly deep black iris that was almost indistinguishable from the pupil.

At first nothing Harry saw registered, his mind completely blank as he took in the familiar sight of Hogwarts` infirmary. Then the sound of loud, girlish squealing hit his ears, and his vision was obscured by bushy brown curls as Hermione Granger swooped down on him with a hug. Harry held completely still, waiting calmly for her to let go of him, even though his instincts were screaming at him get away from the possible threat. Luckily, his hopes were answered when Madame Pomfrey entered the room, drawn from her office by the happy noised Hermioine was emitting.

"Miss Granger! Release Mr. Potter this instant! This is an infirmary; you ought to know better than to maul someone who's just woken from a coma. And before I've had a chance to examine him too!" Madame Pomfrey scolded, prompting Hermione to pull hurriedly away from him, a look of shame covering her features.

Madame Pomfrey just shook her head, muttering spells under her breathe as she started her examination of Harry, while Hermione began to prattle on about how worried everyone had been and how much school he'd missed. Harry himself had stopped paying to the women as soon as Hermione's hair had stopped blocking his vision.

It was to be expected that Harry would be surprised about having to use of two eyes after so long with just one, but that was not what held his attention. Through his right eye, which had been missing for a year until then, as far as Harry could tell, he could see colors all around him, colors that were absolutely not normal. Several items that were in the infirmary emitted dim glows of various colors. He could see the glow coming from potions in the cupboard that he really shouldn't have been able to see given that the cupboard was closed. He could see slightly brighter glows coming from Madame Pomfrey and Hermione, and when he looked down at himself, he was nearly blinded by the unexpected radiance. All of this Harry could see with his right eye only, while his normal eye saw, well, normally, with exception of his vision now being perfect without the use of his glasses. All of this Harry took in with no reaction as he calmly analyzed his new situation. Setting aside the new development with his vision for a later date, Harry finally turned his attention to Hermione, just in time to catch the end of her little speech.

"… and you have _so_ much to catch up on when you start school again, but don't worry, Ron and I will help you -" she cut herself off with gasp, her eyes widening. "I can't believe I didn't tell Ron as soon as you woke up, he'll be so happy to see, all the Weasleys will, they'll all come to visit as soon as they get the news! Ron usually comes with me -" she would have continued Harry was sure, but she was interrupted by the Headmaster as he walked through the doors around the corner of the private section of the hospital wing Harry had been placed in.

"I'm sure Harry would love to catch up with you later my dear, but I'm afraid your free period is over, and it will have to wait until later," he said smiling kindly. Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall and screeched in alarm, before streaking out of the hospital wing at a speed previously thought possible only on a broom. Dumbledore chuckled softly at the girl's antic before turning his attention to the recently awoken Harry, smile still firmly in place. "You gave us quite the scare, Harry." The ever-present twinkle in his eyes dimmed a little in remembrance. Harry remained silent as he stared steadily at the headmaster. The awkward silence continued until Madame Pomfrey interrupted with the results of her detailed diagnostics check on Harry.

"He appears to be perfectly healed, Albus, apart from some lingering weakness as a result of the energy he has expended and the lack of nourishment he received. I'd like to keep him here for one more day to make sure no problems pop up, though. You have ten minutes, Albus," she finished firmly. With a small smile in Harry's direction and a stern one in Dumbledore's, she departed towards her office to leave the two alone, and Dumbledore once again returned his attention to Harry.

"I hate to jump straight into business, but it must be done," Dumbledore said with a sigh. The conversation would be so much easier if Harry was actually participating in it. His continued silence was throwing him off. "As you probably know, or guessed, Petunia and her family is dead, not to mention that the blood protection your mother left you is gone now that you are of legal age. I've decided that it would be best for you to remain at Hogwarts at all times." The headmaster paused to gauge Harry's reaction, but he received none. It disconcerted him that he could read no emotion in Harry's eyes as he had grown adept at over the long years, though from what he knew of the boy, he wouldn't like the idea of remaining locked up in the school one bit. But still he remained frustratingly taciturn. "You will remain as usual in the Gryffindor dormitory, and catch up on what you have missed of school while you were . . . away." At this point the Professor finally got a reaction from Harry.

"Professor Dumbledore, I would prefer to learn how to use my magic to survive in case this happens again. I'm tired of being helpless and having to rely on others to protect me." His voice was quiet, and rough from disuse, but other than that, Dumbledore could discern no emotion. It was becoming more and more apparent that Harry had drastically changed during his stint with Voldemort. That knowledge, coupled with his rearing protective instinct for the boy he considered as a grandson, would not allow him to even consider allowing the boy to learn anything dangerous after what he'd just been through. He would make sure Harry remained protected, but he did not want to corrupt his youth or his innocence with the harsh training required for what Harry was asking.

"Harry, my dear boy, I'm afraid that it wouldn't be a good idea. You need to rest and time to recover mentally and emotionally from what you've been through at Voldemort's hands," he responded with gentle eyes. Harry returned his stare with blank eyes. With an internal wince Dumbledore concluded the conversation. "All of the teachers have agreed to set up a schedule in the evenings to tutor you on what you have missed, and you'll find all of your belongings from your relatives' house in your old dorm." He stood up with a rustling of his electric blue robes. "I am glad that you are back safely now, Harry. Hogwarts hasn't been the same without you," he said with one last twinkly eyed smile, and departed before Poppy could come kick him out.

. . .

Harry went along with Dumbledore's idea for four months in the end, for the most part anyway. He obligingly took his tutoring sessions with the school's teachers in the evenings and remained in the Gryffindor dorms, but that was the extent of his obedience. He spent most of his days not spent on his homework from various teachers in the library, learning everything he could. During the nights, he did research in the restricted section, under the cover of his invisibility cloak. Needless to say, he excelled at all the work the professors threw at him while on his learning spree. All of them were both astonished and impressed, even the dour Professor Snape, though none of them knew the extent he had learned, so as not to alarm them or Dumbledore.

He eventually learned that the glow he could see with the new right eye his magic had seen fit to give was magic. The different colors and brightness indicated the type of magic cast and the intent of the castor, as well as the strength of the magic. Each magical person had a different color to their magic, even if it was just a slight shade of difference. They would occasionally change colors around the edges or fluctuate, usually indicating strong emotion. Harry found himself calling them auras, as he had no other word for them, and it seemed to fit. It seemed like every living animal he saw had an aura, and every aura had a different feeling to it, though the ones belonging to magicless beings lacked a certain essence.

Another oddity Harry found was the strange silver glow he saw in all living things. He saw it in the plants, in the nonmagical animals that he saw, and in himself. No magic color came near the color of this energy. In fact, no magical aura Harry had seen had been a metallic color, save Harry's own. The silver light hovered just over his skin intermingling with the strong gold of his magical aura, and it shone more brightly from his skin than it did from the plants and animals he saw. When he looked for it in other witches and wizards, he was able to see it in them, too, but not near as bright as has own, and practically smothered beneath their magical auras. He had a feeling that this silver energy had something to with his new connection to nature, though.

Harry had discovered, after his recovery, that he felt strangely at peace when he was outside, on the school grounds. Animals never seemed to be wary of him like they were with other humans, and would often seek him out, drawing him into little games, or simply settling down near him for the sake of being in his presence. Harry found that he much preferred their company to that of humans, and any time that was not spent in the library, or in lessons with the professors, was spent outside, usually reading a book with an assortment of creatures surrounding him. They all had an appealing sort of innocence about them.

. . .

Harry looked up from where he was seated at a table in one of the more private areas of the library when two people settled into the seats across from him. "I can't believe Snape assigned us a five foot essay!" Ron exclaimed loudly as he dropped his bag on the table. "He probably did that just to have an excuse to fail us!"

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione scolded, "you wouldn't be having so much trouble if you'd started on it the day it was assigned." She pulled out long piece of parchment with her mostly completed essay on it. "I've already almost finished mine. Although," she added with a frown, "five feet _was _a bit much." She grabbed her Potions book from her bag and opened it to the page she needed before turning to Harry. "How are you doing with your tutoring assignment, Harry?" she asked kindly. "I'd be happy to help you with anything you're having trouble with."

"Hey, what about helping me?" Ron protested.

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione snapped at him before turning back to Harry, who was staring at her indifferently.

". . . No," he said eventually, then turned back to the book he was reading about human transfiguration and animagi. Hermione looked at him in shock for a brief moment before continuing to pester him, feeling very self-righteous.

"Harry, I understand if you're embarrassed about being so far behind, but it really isn't your fault. I can help you, Harry." Hermione smiled at him in what he presumed was supposed to be an encouraging way.

"Yeah, mate," Ron chimed in, "you know she's the smartest girl in our year. If anyone can catch you up, she can." Harry graced the two of them with another dispassionate stare.

"No," he said once more, this time grabbing his stack of books and getting up to leave. It was much more peaceful at his tree. He left his former best friends gaping at his back. It wasn't the first time any of his former friends had tried to act like normal with him and been rebuffed. They seemed determined to act like nothing had changed, that Harry hadn't been tortured for a year and a half while they sat around twiddling their thumbs. They were so determined and hopelessly naive that Harry had a difficult time not being overly cruel just to snap them out of it. But despite how determined everyone had been in the beginning, there was only so much they were willing to stand, and that was the last time any of them tried to speak to him.

. . .

After four months, he felt that he'd learned all he could at Hogwarts, and left under the cover of his invisibility cloak during the night. He'd received a letter from Gringotts about his inheritance the day before and decided that it was time. So immediately after leaving he headed straight to the goblin run bank. It just before dawn when he arrived at the bank, and he immediately walked to the only goblin to be seen at a desk near the door. The goblin looked at him with a mask of indifference, though Harry caught a glimpse of surprise in the creature's eyes for a moment before he spoke.

"I received this letter concerning my inheritance yesterday, and I'd like to speak to the manager about it," he stated neutrally, handing the letter to the goblin, as he had been directed to in the letter. The goblin – Ripfang he read from a gleaming gold name tag – skimmed the letter before ringing a small bell.

"Right this way, Mr. Potter," Ripfang said gruffly after standing, and gestured for Harry to follow him before walking off at a brisk pace. As he turned to follow, Harry noticed another goblin taking Ripfang's place at the desk, and deduced that the new goblin had been summoned by the bell.

They went beyond the large room where the goblins met with the owners of vaults and deeper into the building itself, through a maze of halls, and continued their journey for a good ten minutes or so before Ripfang finally stopped outside of a large door with a gold plaque stating to Harry that they were at Manager Gutwrench's Office. Ripfang gave the door a brief rap with the door's golden knocker, then promptly disappeared down the hallway.

"Enter," Harry heard a gravelly voice say from beyond the door. It swung gently open when he reached towards it, and Harry went through the doorway with caution. Beyond the door, Harry saw a moderately sized room that was comfortably lit with four flickering torches, one on either side of the door, and one each on the walls to the left and right of the door. The back wall was a bookshelf filled with various books and scrolls. In the middle of the office was a large desk with a rather plump well-dressed goblin behind it, who was currently peering at Harry from behind small, circular gold rimmed glasses.

"You must be Harry Potter," the goblin Harry took to be Manager Gutwrench ground out in the same gravelly voice Harry had heard from behind the door, and motioned for Harry to sit in one of the two comfortably padded chairs that Harry only then noticed. Taking his seat in the chair to the left, Harry responded to the goblin's question with a short nod. "Then I suppose we should get on to business." The goblin leaned forward, propping his arms on his elbows and interlacing his fingers.

"When you came age on your seventeenth birthday, we were made aware that you are the heir to two very important families, as well as your own. We would have contacted you when you first came of age, but at the time you were . . . indisposed." The goblin cleared his throat uncomfortably for a moment as Harry's gaze seemed to sharpen momentarily. "Being the godson of one Sirius Black, and this being his wish, you have now become the Lord Black, and have inherited the Black family vault and estates," he paused, examining Harry's still expressionless face for a moment before continuing. "You have also, of course, inherited the Potter family vaults and estates. The last inheritance you have received, however, is the most surprising. You are now also the Lord Peverell. We had long thought that the line had died out. Not enough of the blood in the family until you I suppose. That vault has collected quite a bit of interest." Gutwrench released a hacking cough. "If you wish to visit your new vaults I will have someone take you. Here are your keys." He extracted a key ring from a pocket, handing it to Harry. There was one gold key, similar to the one from his trust fund vault, one black key, and one key that appeared to be made of diamond. Harry considered for a moment.

"I'll take a look at them."

. . .

Harry was guided to his vaults by a goblin named Griphook, the cart's breakneck speed and sharp turns through the darkness still the same as he remembered. In the first vault he went to, the Potter family vault, he unshrank the trunk he had stowed in the pocket of his robes before coming. It was spelled to contain an endless amount of space inside, and after opening it, Harry did a spell that was a more complicated version of the Summoning Charm. It took more power and skill to cast because it summoned in a more generalized way, allowing Harry to call to him items he would want without knowing precisely what they were. After Harry cast the spell, quite a few books and scrolls flew from the multiple large mounds of items and money that inhabited the vault, and went directly into the trunk. Though he couldn't see it, he knew that once inside, that summoned books and scrolls were organizing themselves by category on the bookshelves of the library that existed in the limitless amount of space in the trunk. All of them had something to do with magic that he had yet to learn, as that had been what he intended to summon with the spell. The few things that weren't books, random papers, or scrolls that Harry managed to summon were useful magical artifacts, or sometimes weapons. These, also, sorted themselves accordingly.

The same process repeated itself in the Black family vault, though the items that were summoned were more numerous than they had been in the Potter family vault, and from more questionable origin. There were far less scrolls, and the multitude of books consisted of many dark colored covers, and more than one menacing title. Once the flow stopped, Harry also summoned some coins, for the case of an emergency. With that he was ready for next and final stop, to the Peverell vault.

**_A/N: There you have it, the second chapter. It took longer than I had hoped to write, but I hope you guys enjoy it. If you have any questions, ask, and I would dearly love it if you reviewed. I like to know what people think of my writing. Feel free to IM me if you need to also. With any luck, and the blessings of the plot bunny, the next chapter will be up soon. Oh, and also, I'm going to be changing the name when I update the third chapter. I put that on my profile too. I came up with 'The Pain of Emotions' in a hurry, and I don't really like it much. The new title is going to be 'There Comes a Time'. _**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: The chapter is officially here! Happy Valentine's Day! I hope you guys like it, and gosh dang it, PLEASE leave a review. The amount I've been getting is quite pitiful in my opinion, no offence. I like knowing for sure what you think about it. Heck, you can even tell me if you think my writing style sucks and I'll be happy because it's feedback. I'm completely serious here. Sorry for any mistakes, still no Beta.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. I do not own the Naruto manga or anime.**_

_**Warning: As I have said, this is slash. If you don't like it, don't read it. Naruto x Harry**_

The Peverell vault was quite different from the previous two vaults Harry had visited. Where the other two had been a disorderly mess of riches in random piles, the Peverell vault was fairly organized. It was also quite a bit bigger. There was a large pile the size of a ship of gold galleons in the very center of the room, with a few sickles and knuts mixed throughout it. One corner of the vault hosted an obscene amount of weapons and armor. There were a few random piles of magical artifacts scattered about, but most of the rest of the space was taken up by shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls.

Harry did the same spell he had used in the Potter and Black vaults to summon books and scrolls that held teachings of magics. They obediently floated towards the now open trunk and vanished into its depths, settling into their proper places on the shelves, beside the books he had summoned from the other vaults. Finished, Harry latched the trunk back up and activated the shrinking charm. Harry left Gringotts quite satisfied with the results of his visit. He had plenty of new books and scrolls to learn from. By his estimate, it would take him four months to go through all of them.

. . .

Harry settled down in a small, isolated cottage in the middle of a beautiful forest that had been left to him by the Potters. It was a couple of miles away from a small wizarding village that was home to a small magical population of relatively kindhearted men and women, with only a few children. Every time he went into town, he used a simple glamour to make him appear as a nondescript man with plain features and brown hair, and the villagers left didn't bother with him so long as he didn't cause trouble. The cottage itself had been kept preserved by magic and already tastefully decorated in shades of cream and brown. There was also nobody around to bother him for miles, and best of all, nobody from Hogwarts or the Order of the Phoenix would be able to find him. While he didn't hate them, he had no desire to associate with them any longer. The only thing he had to worry about concerning household chores was the grocery shopping and cooking.

Needless to say, as soon as he was settled in, he dove into the books and scrolls he had retrieved from his newly discovered vaults, keeping up with his practice of doing his study outside when the weather was good in order to enjoy the company of the wild animals in the forest. He started working on things he specifically wanted to learn, before working his way to the books written about magic he didn't know specifically about, but had been summoned because he would be interested in them. During his stay at Hogwarts, he'd managed to master ever all of the basics of magic inside and out, to the point that he was past what the students in the final year learned. What he'd had to work the hardest at was his Potions skills, as he'd never received adequate training from Snape, but he had managed to do it in the end. Now he had a chance to learn and hopefully master things that weren't taught at Hogwarts.

He took on the subjects contained in his recently acquired library one at a time, completely mastering one topic before moving on to another. The first thing he studied was the mind arts. Namely, Occlumency and Legilimency. He found Occlumency to be considerably easier when he didn't have to deal with Snape and had a decent explanation of how to do it. His mindscape turned out to an endless system of caverns, and was easily able to create unsurpassable defenses. Any intruder into his mind that managed to past the multilayered walls would find themselves in perpetual darkness with no means of creating light and only able to hear the constant dripping of water from the natural formations in the caves. There were also a multitude of traps in the form of bottomless pits and very sharp and cleverly placed rock formations. He also took the time to organize his memories in a room of the caverns that was filled with pools of water. He took each memory he had and organized them into individual pools, instinctively knowing which pool held which memory, and easily able to navigate through them. While it only took him a short amount of time to master the theory and successfully enter his own mindscape, it took him three months to completely secure his mind with walls and traps, and one month further to finish organizing his memories from the beginning to the present, though it was quite painful to even go near some of the more recent ones. Needless to say, it made it much easier to remember everything he learned.

Harry didn't relish learning Legilimency as he did Occlemency. In fact, one could say that he had a deep-rooted distaste for it. Still, he absorbed all the information his books contained on the subject. For practice he used Legilimency on some of the wild he animals he befriended. They didn't seem to mind, and it helped him master the mind magic that was so distasteful to him.

He could now work his way through a person's mind effortlessly and pick out any information he wanted with the person in question being none the wiser. Unless, of course, the person whose mind he was invading was proficient in the mind arts as well. However, on the flip side, he now also knew how to rampage through a person's mindscape with the tact of a raging rhinoceros, while causing as much pain as possible in the search through memories, though he found such tactics to be tasteless.

After the mind arts he moved on the arts of silent casting, so named because they helped make the casting of spells less noticeable. The first discipline was of casting spells wordlessly. He worked till he knew not only the more common spells required by the Hogwarts curriculum, but every spell he had ever learned. After that he proceeded to wandless magic. It was a bit more difficult to master than wordless, and some people were incapable of doing even a little of it, but he did the same as he had previously with the nonverbal magic, practicing until he could do every spell he knew without the use of his wand. Finally, he combined the first two disciplines and mastered the ability to cast spells while using nonverbal and wandless magic simultaneously. It was the most difficult part of the silent arts for him up to then, despite that he had mastered both aspects till that point individually. Surprisingly enough, the last part, learning and mastering both motionless and simultaneous motionless and nonverbal magic, was easier than even just nonverbal or wandless casting alone. It required him to cast spells without even motioning his hands to direct the magic. When he was finished with the silent arts, he felt a deeper mastery over his magic in general than ever before.

It was only then that he freed himself to browse at random through his bookshelves to look for anything that caught his attention. One of the first things he found was a shelf dedicated to books on health and physical fitness. After reading through some of them, he promptly put himself on a regiment of healthy foods and nutrient potions and made himself an exercise routine. Moving on from that, he became quite proficient at warding, and he learned as many battle spells for both defensive and offensive purposes as he could. He even learned a spells and curses that were classified as dark, courtesy of the Black family vault. He also learned to Apparate, and he studied all of the magical creatures.

However, his most interesting discovery was the strange book he spotted every time he was in his library, even when he was sure it had been in a different place the day before. It looked ancient, no doubt coming from the oldest vault he inherited, the Perevells'. He would have read it the first time it had pulled its appearing act, had it not been written in a foreign language. Even with that roadblock though, it was only so long before he broke down and decided to learn the language, which he found to be Japanese.

Due to his improved memory and learning abilities, it took him approximately one month to learn the language adequately enough to start reading the book. Since it was a rather large and thick book, and written in a language he was still getting used to, it took him one week further to finish the book. And promptly decide that it was, indeed, the most interesting book in his library, though it was more of a journal really. He found himself feeling vaguely pleased that it had stalked him until he acknowledged it, or he would have lost a wonderful opportunity for both an escape, and for valuable information. The journal was entitled _A Guide to the Hidden Countries and the Shinobi Arts_, and it had been written by one Ignotus Peverell. The book contained a detailed description of the Hidden Countries that apparently existed on a continent hidden from the rest of the world by strong natural magic as a result of a devastating war over 5 million years ago. What Harry found the most interesting was the shinobi that lived there and the strange energy they used called chakra, and the feats they could perform with its use. From Ignotus' descriptions of it in the book, it sounded similar to the silver glow he saw with his new right eye.

It was an easy decision, really, to go to this strange place. The people there could teach him to be strong, to use the silver energy that flowed through his body. He was already attempting some the exercises described in the journal, for both his body and chakra. He had already managed to reinforce his muscles with chakra, and had progressed to basic jutsus and tree climbing. He found chakra exercises to be calming, similar to meditating, and thought his control was coming along quite well. But there was only so much he could do with only the help of one book, and there was a detailed description of how to get to the Hidden Countries. The best part, though, was that he would be very far away from the current battle between the Light and Dark forces and the people who wanted to harm him. In a place where they would certainly have trouble finding him, or at least he assumed they would. It wasn't as if ancient books describing hidden continents were terribly common.

The only thing left to decide had been he actually left. Since the first mention of the Hidden Countries was mentioned, he had been steadily withdrawing all the money contained in each of his vaults. After all, he wasn't really planning on returning more than he could help, and there was no sense in leaving it all just sitting in the vaults for all eternity when he could be making use of it, as he had long since decided that he would return only for the purpose of getting his revenge on Voldemort.

All of this led to now, five months after his departure from Hogwarts, ready to head for the Hidden Countries, all of his belongings packed in the shrunken trunk attached to a silver charm bracelet around his left wrist. Other than the trunk, there was his shrunken wand, two miniature katanas from the Perevell vault, Ignotus' journal, his invisibility cloak, and three evenly spaced diamonds that could store magic. All except the diamonds were charmed to be solid silver while attached to the bracelet. He wore loose black pants, a long-sleeved green shirt, and black combat boots, an outfit that ensured that the minimum number of scars possible showed, though the silvery tear streak scar was easily discernible on the right side of his face, as well as a few smaller silver lines on his neck and hands. His hair was the same unruly mess as always, if a bit longer. All in all, he was completely prepared as he stood the dimly lit and completely bare cellar that was attached to the cottage that had been his home for the past five months.

A complicated array of symbols forming a circular pattern was drawn in black organic dye on the cement covered ground in front of him, with a diameter of six feet. It had been in place all night, absorbing natural magic and chakra in preparation for the ritual that would send him to the Hidden Countries. It was all quite simple really. All he had to do to be on his way was step into the circle and name of the place he wanted to go while mingling his magic with the nature magic contained in the array. The hardest part of the whole process was copying the array exactly from the drawing Ignotus Perevell had made in the journal, and the waiting.

Looking at the circle of complicated symbols, he could see all of the magic and chakra retained within the circle; there was so much of it trapped inside that the glow made both of his eyes water a bit, despite that he could only see the energy with his magically bestowed and mismatched black eye. He looked everything over one last time, before straightening his back and starting towards the middle of the circle. As he walked forward, the barest amount of excitement flitting through him before the emotion was banished by his damaged mental state. Brushing away all distractions, he let his magic flow from him and mix with the chakra and magic that the array had been gathering since its creation the night before. Without further adieu, he stated his destination, the same one Ignotus had used as a starting point all those years ago.

"The Forest of Death, Konoha," he enunciated loud and clear, the memory of his first trip through the Floo at the forefront of his mind. Every bit of magic and chakra in the circle converged on his body, circulating more and more quickly, and he had to close his right eye to keep himself from getting dizzy. Then, with a bright flash of light, he disappeared, the incredibly large amount of pure nature energy sending ripples of magical disturbance for miles as a reaction to the spell.

. . .

The Dark Lord Voldemort paused in his fun for a moment, allowing the muggles he was torturing in the dark depths of the Malfoy Manor dungeuns a brief reprieve as he sensed the connection he always felt in the back of his mind to the Boy-Who-Lived grow dim, and almost disappear. Returning his attention to the muggles though, he filed away the disturbance at the back of his mind, not willing to let his minions see that something was wrong.

_**A/N: Tada! Now write a review please. It isn't quite as long as I'd hoped to keep my chapters, but the story was telling me that the chapter had to end there. The title of this story is now officially **_**There Comes a Time. **_**Sorry if that confuses anyone. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon. Also, I wrote an incredibly fluffy Pokemon oneshot called **_**The Trouble With Epiphanies**_**, so if you like fluff, pokemon, or both, please read it and tell me what you think.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: The 4th chapter finally! It's a bit later and shorter than I had wanted but that's how it turned out. I would also like to apologize before hand for any mistakes. I don't have a Beta, or even spellcheck anymore. I hope you like it!**_

Harry looked around at his new surroundings cautiously, taking in the large trees and overflowing vegitation. Everywhere he looked, he cold see life, and there was an abundance of green. All of the life in the forest glowed so brightly with chakra that it was almost painful to his eye. It was, simply put, beautiful. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, and the music of rustling leaves filled his ears. He could smell moist dirt mingled with the scent of the flowers that covered the forest floor. As he stood still in the clearing he'd arrived in, the wildlife his sudden appearance had startled started to move again, adding the sounds of chirping birds and movement. It was quite calming.

There was a reason he'd followed in Ignotus' footsteps and chosen to appear in the Forest of Death. Not only was it directly inside of a prosperous Hidden Village, but it was also usually avoided by even shinobi due to its many dangers. Therefore, there was nobody around to see him randomly appear out of thin air, and therefore no shinobi would feel the need to apprehend him for infiltrating their village. And while Ignotus had had a hard time with the dangerous animals that inhabited the forest, Harry didn't expect too much trouble, given strange attraction animals seemed to have for him since his escape from Voldemort. Though he found that he liked this forest very much, and made a mental note to return whenever possible.

His theory about the animals of the forest was proven correct even as he stood there, when several small animals began to approach him, nibbling at his shoes and trying to climb up his leg. He crouched for a moment to pet them and play with them, feeling more at ease than he had in a good long while. The land of the shinobi felt so much more full of life than the land he'd left behind, and it wasn't just this forest, though it was particularly impressive compared to the rest of the land. Even what he couldn't see with his eye, he could feel. It seemed that the more he was around chakra and the more learned about, he was more in tune with it, being able to feel it almost as much as he could see it. He'd noticed the same thing with his magic over time as he studied. The wildlife was just as full of chakra as the trees were, and everything seemed supersized.

Giving the rabbit he was currently showering with attention one last stroke, Harry began walking in the direction the village was in, judging by the large number of human chakra signatures was in. As he walked he thought of all the scenarios that he might be met with once he reached his destination. It wouldn't do to arrive unprepared. In fact, such a lack of forethought could cost him his life in a village full of trained ninja.

. . .

It took Harry approximately four hours to reach and exit the walls that surrounded the forest. It took him a further half of an hour to reach the Hokage Tower, which was easily recognizeable due to its detailed description in the journal. His trip through the village had been . . . different. He saw many shinobi walking through the crowds or jumping over the roofs. Everything was very different from what he was used to, from the food and resturaunts, to the abundent weapons shops. It had been quite the culture shock, especially given his recent self-imposed isolation.

He'd also found himself being stared at quite a bit, presumably due to his - what they considered - exotic features. While he had inherited his mother's rather almond-shaped eyes, they couldn't pass as even remotely similar to the predominant Asian-like features the people of this land all seemed to possess. He didn't like being on the receiving end of such attention. It reminded him uncomfortably of being ogled at in the wizarding world, and could be detrimental to his career as a shinobi if it continued. Ninja were supposed to be inconspicuous. Even the people he saw that had fairer hair and eye coloring, and the odd dark skinned person had the same Asian characteristics. They had some very odd colorings as well. He'd even seen one young kunoichi with pink hair arguing with her blond compatriot.

It was disturbingly easy to get in to speak to the Hokage. He simply entered exactly as he was, walked up to one of the chuunins behind a desk and asked for a meeting with the Hokage. He'd been immediately directed by a kind natured chuunin to where he stood now: right in front of the door to the Hokage's office. Sure they hadn't known that he was an intruder, but he hadn't expected the process of getting an appointment with an esteemed village's leader to be so . . . simple. Pushing down his growing sense of trepidation, Harry raised his right hand to knock on the door. He heard a harsh female voice bid him to enter after a few seconds, and, reinforcing his Occlumency sheilds, opened the door and stepped into the office.

He was met with the sight of a busty blond woman with long blond hair in pigtails at the base of her neck and a purple, diamond shaped marking on her forhead. She was sitting behind a desk that was overflowing with large piles of paper, with a pen in one hand and a bottle of sake in the other as she read the paper in front of her. Perhaps that was the reason why it was so easy to get an audience with the Hokage. Frequent meetings would lessen the boredom and repetetiveness of such a task.

"Have a seat," the she said, absently signing the paper in front of her before grabbing another off the stack to her right. Harry cautiously moved forward to do so, wary of the large amount of chakra the woman possessed despite the soothing aura it gave off. "What can I do for you?"

Harry looked her directly in the eye, careful not to intrude into her mind. "I would like to become a shinobi for your village," he stated plainly. Tsunade's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the boy in front of her. That was decidedly not what she had been expecting to hear. She didn't recognize him, though that wasn't overtly strange considering the number of people who lived in Konoha. However, the boy, who looked to be around fifteen or sixteen years of age, had distinctively exotic features, not to mention the scar on his face, and should have already had a chance to become a ninja through the Academy already. "I'm afraid you're going to have to explain why you haven't taken the chance to become a shinobi through the Academy if that is what you wanted." Tsunade found it a bit disconcerting the way this unknown boy looked her straight in the eye, particularly since his own set were mismatched. Very few people met her eyes on their first meeting with her, if ever.

"I'm not originally from here," Harry explained. "I just arrived to day. There were no opportunities to pursue the goal of becoming a ninja where I come from. I've already taught myself as much as I can with the limited amount of knowlege available to me, but I need a teacher." Tsunade pondered for a minute. "What are your reasons for becoming a ninja and how do I know you will be loyal to Konoha if you are allowed to become one of our shinobi?" she asked, a challenge in her voice.

"I want to become a ninja because I want to be strong enough to protect myself and the things I care about," Harry began after a brief pause, being careful of his wording but remaining truthful. "My life hasn't exactly been pleasant, and I'm tired of being at a disadvantage. I would be loyal to the village and its people if I was given the chance to become strong, because it would be the first helpful thing anyone has ever done for me without having an ulterior motive." Tsunade could see shadows that shouldn't belong in such young eyes, and it made her maternal insticts rise up. She didn't see any signs of deceit, and the mutiple scars covering the bits of his skin that she could see were powerful evidence.

_Besides,_ she thought with an internal smirk, _I know just who would make the perfect teacher for him. The boy looks like he need some livening up. _"Okay," Tsunade said. "So long as you swear that you'll be loyal to Konoha, I'll let you become an official Genin of Konoha and get you a Sensei." The Hokage looked back to a shadowy corner behind her, where Harry could see the aura and suppressed chakra of a ninja. "Tora," she barked, and a masked figure stepped forward. "Fetch Naruto for me. Tell him to come immediately," Tsunade instructed. As the ninja vanished, she turned her attention back to Harry. "What's your name, anyway, kid?" she asked, pulling out a few papers and stamps. "And your age," she added as an afterthought.

"Hisoka, 19," Harry answered, prepared for the question. The blond looked at him in shock before she could gather herself. She'd thought he was years younger than that. "Just Hisoka?" she asked. Hisoka nodded. The name rather suited him, he thought. He'd decided before he even came that he wanted to blend in, and having such an obviously foreign name would jeapordize that plan. Besides that, he was tired of the name the was always accompanied by titles and responsibilities, not to mention memories of Voldemort's voice hissing it in his ear as he writhed in pain from various forms of torture. This was to be his new beginning. The lack of a surname would do nothing more than lead people to assume he was an orphan, which was true.

Tsunade settled as she wrote and stamped the necessary papers, taking the time to really examine the newest member of her ranks as she did so. Hisoka's appearance was androgynous, though his choice in clothing was quite practical for a ninja. His black hair was quite messy, and reached just past his shoulders, though not nearly as messy as Kakashi's. One of his eyes was a stunning jewel green, while the other was a black abyss with a silver scar that ran from the outer corner of the eye down his cheek, rather like a tearstreak. His skin was very pale, and what little of it she could she was covered in similar silvery scars, and he showed little to no emotion. The boy definately provoked her maternal intincts. That didn't mean he wouldn't be stalked by ANBU for the next few weeks though.

"Here you go," Tsunade said after one last stamp. "These are your citizenship papers. You'll need to come back tomorrow to get a picture for your I.D." She leaned forward to prop her elbows on the desk and rest her head on her interlaced fingers. "Your sensei should be here soon. His name is Na-" the door busted open and a tall man with spiky blond hair, cheerful blue eyes, and naturally tanned skin walked in. "What'd you call me in for, Baa-chan?" the man asked a bit loudly. Tsunade's eyebrow twitched and she closed her eyes in exasperation, praying for patience.

"_Naruto_," she said with poorly concealed anger in her voice, barely restraining herself from throwing something at him, before taking a calming breath. A smile and a glint appeared in her eyes just before she spoke again. "Meet Hisoka. He'll be your new Genin student." Naruto's eyes widened in shock.

. . .

Naruto woke up that morning feeling a strange sense of anticipation, like that day was special for some reason that he couldn't remember. It was strange, but the feeling remained with him throughout the morning, despite how he pushed it to the back of his mind. The Kyuubi was acting strangely, too, chuckling randomly every now and then. He didn't answer any of Naruto's questions about his odd behavior either, other than a criptic "_you'll know when the time comes_" followed by a quick bout of chortling. So Naruto just did the best he could to ignore the feeling and focus on his training.

He did such good a job at ignoring it that he mostly forgot about it as he went about his day. He did his morning training as usual up to noon, when he went for lunch at Ichiraku's like he did almost every day. Both Tsunade and Sakura nagged at him about that particular habit of his, so he made a habit to eat somewhere healthier every once and a while. He chatted with Kiba and Shino when he ran into them - mostly Kiba - and had been about to head back to the training fields when an ANBU in a tiger mask silently appeared beside him to inform him that Granny Tsunade want to see him in her office. This caused the feeling to come back at full force, and more chuckles from the irritating fox.

_She probably just wants me for a mission_, he thought as he made his way the Hokage Tower. He sent quick smiles and greetings to the secretaries as he made his way up, and bounded into the office with his usual greeting. He had just noticed the dark haired figure seated in the chair before Baa-chan's desk when Tsunade spoke, a sadistic smile on her face. "Meet Hisoka. He'll be your new Genin student." Naruto's widened blue eyes met with the mismatched black and green eyes of his new student, and an odd feeling rose in his chest while the Kyuubi chuckled in the back of his head.

. . .

Hisoka was barely able to keep himself from tensing when he felt an extremely large mass of warm energy making its way to the room, finding himself unable to concentrate on what the Hokage was saying as it drew closer. He did flinch a little when the door was flung open with a bang. The man that walked through door with a loud and familiar greeting to the Hokage, who looked irritated, had longish spiky gold hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin. He wore a fishnet shirt under a pocketed black vest that showed of his muscular chest, black cargo pants, and black combat boots. He wore a necklace with a blue gemstone attached to it around his neck, and his heitei-ate around his left bicep.

Hisoka dimly heard the Hokage introduce him, but it was as if she was speaking from a long distance away. As he looked into his teacher's sparkling blue eyes, a sense of foreboding grew heavily in his stomach.

_**A/N: OK, first things first. I looked up the name Hisoka at two different websites, and one of them said it meant 'cautious; reserved,' and the other said it meant 'secret'. Either way, I liked it, and thought it would match up well with Harry in this story. If you like my writing, feel free to check out my other stories, and please review. It would be much appreciated. I would also like to apologize for how short it is. **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Someone was a little unhappy with how fast Harry managed to learn all of the stuff he did before he left for the Hidden Countries. In my opinion, he was perfectly capable of learning it all that quickly. When he was in school before he was captured, he never tried particularly hard to learn anything, and after he escaped he was quite motivated to learn all that he did, not to mention the fact that he was reading and practicing pretty much constantly. So it's perfectly plausible that he learned all that he did in those months.**_

"-Hisoka will be watched for the next years or so to make sure he isn't an enemy spy, and you'll have to assess his skills before you start training him. Hisoka won't be allowed to learn any jutsu above C rank until his loyalty is confirmed," Tsunade said, finally catching Hisoka's attention. His eyes left Uzumaki Naruto's sparkling blue ones to bore into the Godaime Hokage with startling intensity. "Is there any other way to prove my loyalty than being watched?" Hisoka asked, surprising both his future sensei and the Hokage.

"Well, there is one way, but most people would prefer to be watched," Tsunade began uncertainly. "The only other way is for Yamanaka Inoichi from the T & I department to enter your mind and assure us that your motives are what you say they are. Most people would prefer not to have someone enter their mind, so I assumed you'd feel the same." This would have been Hisoka's only option if they had been in wartime still, but the war was over now and all of the Hidden Villages had seemed to reach a rocky peace since then, so Tsunade had felt comfortable with merely having Hisoka watched by Anbu.

Hisoka considered his options. On the one hand, he could spend an unspecified amount of time being observed every minute of every day by strangers, or he could have someone poke around his mind for a few minutes. He was confident that against a normal wizard invader, his skill with Occlumency would allow him to control what they saw, but this man, Yamanaka Inoichi, was a ninja, and would probably use a method different than Legilimency to enter his mind. He wasn't sure if Occlumency would work on the man's method. He'd have to take that chance, though, because he knew he would not be able to handle being surrounded constantly by dangerous ninja. The very thought put him on edge and made memories of other dangerous people surrounding him rise to the suface of his mind before being ruthlessly squashed.

"I will allow Yamanaka Inoichi to enter my mind," Hisoka said to Tsunade after a brief period of silence, shocking both her and his new sensei. "Are you sure?" Tsunade questioned. She couldn't think of any other who would willingly let an unknown ninja into their mind. Hisoka merely nodded. "Follow me then," she said getting up and heading for the door. "You too, Naruto."

Several minutes later, Hisoka found himself sitting in a chair across the metal table from the fair haired Yamanaka Inoichi. Tsunade and Naruto watched them from outside the room through the one-way mirror. They had all been briefly introduced before Tsunade had explained the situation to the blond shinobi, and they had all been led to their current positions. "I will enter your mind now," Inoichi warned, waiting for the boy to nod before he preformed the jutsu.

Inoichi found himself in a dark place, surrounded by the sound of dripping water. It was a few minutes before his eyes adjusted enough to a little of where he was going, and he cautiously began to explore the cavern. He quickly discovered that he didn't have a clue where to look. Every mind he had entered in the past had memories drifting around at random, and it was merely a matter of finding the correct one. There were no memories drifting around in this one, and it was so dark in Hisoka's mindscape that he could barely see where he was going. He had been wandering around for quite a while when a hand suddenly grabbed his arm stopping him and pulling him back a little just as he was about to take another step. When Inoichi turned to see who had grabbed him, he found that the cave had brightened a bit, and he was looking at Hisoka.

"Be careful," Hisoka said to him, pointing. Inoichi followed his finger to see that he had been about to walk straight over the edge of a deep pit. "Thank you for stopping me," Inoichi said to the boy, shuddering slightly. Hisoka nodded. "You're going the wrong way," he said, releasing Inoichi's arm and walking in the opposite direction. Inoichi quickly followed. He wasn't sure how long they walked, but eventually, they came so a beautiful cavern that was full of shimering pools of water. Hisoka skillfully navigated through the pools, looking for a specific pool.

While Hisoka searched, one pool in particular caught Inoichi's attention, and he couldn't help but walk toward it. It was larger than any of the other pools, seemingly in the middle of the cavern, and the surface was covered with ice. Inoichi could see the glow of a multitude of different lights beneath the surface of the ice, and he watched in fascination as the lights started to turn yellow. He had just reached out to touch it when Hisoka grabbed his arm again, gazing indifferently at him, though Inoichi thought he saw a quick glimpse of some emotion as the boy looked at the yellow glow shining through the ice. "This way," Hisoka said, guiding him to a nearby pool before letting go of his arm this time. Inoichi knelt down next to it and reached his hand out to touch it, but paused, looking to Hisoka for permission. When he received a nod, he submerged his hand in the water, immediately being pulled into the memory.

He fell into a chaotic mess images and feelings. Inoichi felt as if he was in the Hisoka's place as he was assaulted with memories and feeling of various beatings and hunger, and he was horrified to find that there were so many that some of it had to have extended back to his childhood. Then it got exponentially worse, and the methods of torture and brief images changed, signifying that the identity of his torturer had changed at this point. He could distantly feel his physical body shaking from the phantom pains he felt, and the torture seemed to go on forever, though somewhere in the back of his mind Inoichi knew it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.

Just as bad, if not worse, were the intense feelings of rage, hopelessness and depression, among many others, until the emotions seemed to gradually they seemed to be boxed away, until all that was left was the physical pain and apathy. Finally, he came to the point in Hisoka's memories where he seemed to escape, and emotion came through once more. A brief sensation of relief, and a much longer lasting feeling of determination that led to the resolution to never be so helpless again. Inoichi released the technique immediately, desperate for relief from Hisoka's opressive memories.

"He's clear," Inoichi rasped out, panting for breath. His muscles were tensed and shaking, and he could see worry in the Hokage's eyes. He signaled to her that he would fill her in when they were alone, and she nodded almost imperceptibly Naruto's eyes were filled with confusion and more than a little concern. "You okay, Yamanaka-san? You look like you saw a ghost," Naruto said. Inoichi smiled at him reassuringly "I'm fine Naruto-kun," he said. "That jutsu just takes a lot out of me." The blond young man looked doubtful, but nodded his head anyway.

"Naruto," Tsunade said, getting his attention. "Since everything seems to be in order, I want you to go and assess Hisoka's abilities. I'll want your report on how he does, but it will be entirely up to you on how you train him. I'll also need to have Hisoka here tomorrow morning to get his shinobi I.D. picture and his headband." Naruto nodded and gestured for Hisoka to follow him as he practically bounced out of the room. The dark haired boy gave the two remaining ninja in the room one last glance before he followed, shutting the door behind him.

Tsunade immediately turned to Inoichi, who was slowly recovering. "Report," she said, and Inoichi wasted no time as he began. "I've never seen a mind quite like his before. It was defended against intruders in a way I've never seen before, and it was organized." Inoichi paused and looked into the Hokage's eyes with a somber expression. "What's most important though, is what he's been through all his life. I didn't get much more than brief images and impressions, but it was somehow like I was almost living his memories in fast-forward He was beaten and starved from a very young age. At some point later in his life, he was captured by an enemy that tortured him in ways that would make even the toughest in the T & I department feel sick to their stomachs I can't even imagine how some of what happened to him was possible. All of this has left him with very few emotions, similar to Danzo's ROOT Division. I'd even go so far as to say that he doesn't feel anything emotionally other than a strong determination to never be helpless at the hands of an enemy again. I think he will be loyal to us as long as we help him to grow stronger and don't betray him."

Tsunade contemplated what she'd just been told about her newest shinobi. That he'd been starved from a young age explained why he looked so much younger and smaller than his age would imply. The torture he had been through also explained his icy demeanor. It was probably a good thing that she'd put him Naruto.

. . .

Naruto glanced at his new student from the corner of his eye for what felt like the thousandth time, and just like every other time he had, Hisoka's gaze was straight ahead. The strange fluttering sensation he'd had since the first sight of the dark-haired boy hadn't gone away at all, and he had no idea what it meant. Naruto was taking him to training ground seven, but his student's silence was beginning to unnerve him. He'd tried talking to him at first, but Hisoka only spoke when asked a direct question. All Naruto had learned so far was that Hisoka had never eaten ramen before, he didn't care one way or another about toads, and that he wasn't particularly fond of the color orange. All of which neared blasphemy in Naruto's humble opinion.

"All right," Naruto said once they'd arrived at the training ground. "Tell me what you know as far as ninja skills go."

"I know some basic taijutsu, chakra control, and only theory as far as jutsus go," Hisoka answered concisely. Naruto was floored. "You don't know any ninjutsu? Not even henge or bunshin?" Naruto exclaimed incredulously. Hisoka simply nodded as Naruto rubbed his neck contemplatively. "Just come at me with taijutsu," Naruto said in the end.

As they sparred, Naruto came to some quick realizations. First was that though Hisoka did know some basic taijutsu, he had little to no experience with using it against an actual opponent. Second was that he was fairly quick and strong for his size and skill level. Third was that his student had very good stamina, on par with what his own had been when he'd first started his ninja career.

"Okay, stop," Naruto said as the sun began to set, blocking one last poorly aimed kick. "You've got the basic katas down, but you need a lot more experience with fighting opponents." He paused for a minute. "What can you do in chakra control?" he asked.

"I can tree walk and water walk," Hisoka answered. Naruto nodded distractedly, planning. "Okay, so I think I'll work on your taijutsu and try to teach you some ninjutsu first. We'll get you up to genin level in no time, and then I'll see about getting you some experience in missions. Sound good to you?" he finished with a grin, beaming into Hisoka's mismatched eyes when he nodded.

"Awesome first day," Naruto cheered. "And now you're coming to Ichiraku's with me. I can't believe you've never tasted ramen before! That's gotta be a crime or something," he said grabbing Hisoka's wrist and pulling him in the direction of his beloved ramen stand. "I'll even pay since it's your first time. You'll be addicted in no time."

. . .

Hisoka had barely been able to stop himself from flinching when his teacher had grabbed his wrist to drag him to the noodle stand. And now he was seated on a stool with a steaming bowl in front of him, trying to figure out how to use chop sticks. He ended up sloppily imitating his sensei, trying not to make too much of a mess. The blond man didn't seem to notice as he hungrily devoured his own meal. "It's the best isn't it?" Naruto said through a mouthful of noodles. Hisoka merely nodded shortly as he tried to quell the sense of foreboding he got every time he saw his sensei's face. The noodles really weren't that bad, but he didn't see why his sensei seemed so fanatic about them. Naruto beamed at him happily for his reply. "Another bowl of miso, please!" Naruto said to the old man behind the counter, who immediately went about replacing his bowl with a smile. "Do you want more?" Naruto asked Hisoka, who shook his head.

"Naruto!" a girl with pink hair and pale green eyes called as she walked up to the stand. She was followed by a girl with long blond hair and a slightly chubby boy with red swirl marks on his cheeks. A slouching boy with his brown hair tied up in a spiky ponytail trailed at the end of the group. "I heard from Shizune that you were assigned to be a sensei to a new genin," the pink haired girl said excitedly.

"Hi, Sakura-chan," Naruto greeted, " Ino, Chouji, Shikamaru. I did get assigned a genin to teach. Meet Hisoka," he gestured to the silent boy at his side. Sakura and Ino's eyes lit up, Chouji continued eating his chips, and Shikamaru lazily examined Hisoka's scars.

"Oh, she's very pretty!" Sakura squealed, and Ino nodded in agreement. "I'm Sakura, it's nice to meet you," she said, addressing Hisoka, who had frozen upon hearing himself referred to as a female. Naruto burst into laughter.

"S-Sakura-chan," he gasped between bouts of laughter, "Hisoka's a guy." Sakura blushed in embarrassment while Ino joined Naruto in his laughter. Chouji was chuckling lightly, and even Shikamaru was trying to hide a smile.

"Shut up Ino-pig, Naruto!" Sakura yelled, hitting the latter on the head. "I'm so sorry," she said to Hisoka, still blushing, "I didn't mean to . . . " she trailed off, not sure how to explain without insulting Hisoka further. Hisoka merely went back to trying to figure out his chopsticks. "It doesn't matter," he said. Sakura nodded, feeling terrible. Now that she was paying attention, she could see the distinct lack of cleavage, and his facial features weren't quite soft enough to be female. Though she had seen flat chested women before, and Hisoka was a unisex name in her defense.

"It's okay, Sakura, I thought he was a girl at first too," Naruto revealed, causing Hisoka to freeze momentarily again in shock. Ino shook her head in exasperation, patting Hisoka on the back consolingly. "Ignore them, Hisoka-kun," she said. "I think you look very manly." With that blatant lie, the blond woman led her teammates and a miserable Sakura away from the ramen stand.

"Alright," Naruto said with a satisfied smile after finishing the last of his broth. "I'll walk you home. Where to you live?" Hisoka didn't answer. "You do have a place to go, don't you?" Hisoka shook his head, and Naruto sighed. "Leave it to Baa-chan to forget about the essentials. You don't have any weapons either, do you Hisoka-chan?" Hisoka gave another shake of his head, his eye twitching a little at the new addition to his name. "I guess I'll just have to take you shopping once we move on to weapons, but it can wait. You can stay with me until you find a place to live." Naruto grabbed Hisoka's wrist again, and Hisoka wasn't able to contain a small flinch, though his sensei didn't seem to notice. The dark haired male could do nothing but trail obediently behind his teacher.

Naruto led his new student to his small apartment, talking about anything and everything to fill the silence. "This is it," he said to Hisoka as he opened the door, finally letting go of his wrist. "It's not much, but it's home." Hisoka took in the sight of messy old apartment in silence, and Naruto laughed sheepishly, rubbing his neck. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's fine, Naruto-sensei," Hisoka said, glancing briefly into Naruto's eyes. Naruto swallowed as he felt giddiness rise in his stomache, the laughter of the fox echoing through his head again. Then his mind registered what Hisoka had called him, and he gaped. "Sensei?!" he exclaimed incredulously.

. . .

Later that evening after he had settled the issue with Hisoka referring to him as 'sensei', Naruto left his new house-guest to meet up with his Baa-chan about Hisoka, grumbling under his breath about not being old. When he walked through the door to her office, she was predictably snoozing on top of a pile of documents that doubtlessly needed to be signed. Feeling mischievous, he crept closer to her. "Baa-chan!" he yelled in her ear, jumping back quickly to avoid her flailing fist. "Naruto," she growled menacing once she was fully awake, her arm poised to throw a hastily grabbed paper weight.

"What?" he asked innocently. "You're the one who told me to give a report on Hisoka-chan." That sobered the blond woman immediately. "Well?" she demanded impatiently. "What did you learn?"

"He's about genin level in his speed and strength, though he doesn't have much experience using his taijutsu against opponents. The taijutsu he has is pretty basic. He has pretty good chakra control, and he can already tree and water walk. He doesn't know anything but theory when it comes to ninjutsu. I haven't tested him in his weapon skills yet." Naruto reported. Tsunade nodded.

"Here's the file Inoichi and I put together on him after you left. It's very important that you read it, Naruto, so don't just skim over it because you don't like to read." Naruto frowned her. "I know that Baa-chan, what do you take me for?" he said, pouting slightly as he left the office, the file on his new student tucked safely under his arm.

. . .

Hisoka explored the apartment a little after Naruto-sens - Naruto left to meet the Hokage. He didn't understand why the man was so against being called 'sensei'. His apartment really was a mess though. With that thought in mind he set about cleaning the place, not quite willing to live in such a dirty place for even a small amount of time.

. . .

Naruto began to read the file in the dying sunlight as he walked home. He muttered aloud at first as he read. "Hisoka, no last name, age . . . _nineteen_, he's only a little bit younger than me, I thought he was a lot younger than that . . . " but as he reached the more serious part of his student's profile, he grew silent. He learned that Hisoka had been dreadfully tortured in the past, even from the time of his childhood, and that he had somehow shut off most of his emotions, among other things that Yamanaka-san had deduced from his time inside Hisoka's mind. His heart raged for the broken young man in his apartment, matching the pages of the file in his hands as they were dyed red by the setting sun. At the bottom of the document was a note from Tsunade telling him to make sure that Hisoka ate healthily because he had been malnourished as a child on top of everything else.

Naruto was more than a little bewildered when he entered his apartment, thinking that perhaps he'd entered the wrong one by mistake. It was too _clean_ to be his apartment. His apartment had been a state of filth and disrepair for far to long for it to ever be capable of being this clean. But then he saw his new student lying asleep on his couch, and the ownership of the apartment was confirmed. Naruto smiled at Hisoka as he squirmed a little in his sleep, and grabbed an old blanket from the back of his only chair to drape over him. "I'll definitely protect you and make you strong, dattebayo," Naruto whispered to the slumbering boy, before going off to get ready for bed himself.

_**A/N: I'm pretty pleased with this chapter, and it's longer than the last one, so I hope that makes everyone happy. Reviews would be welcome. I hope you enjoyed it :)**_


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